fearful symmetry
by counterserum
Summary: Daud never quite understood what determined the form of the bitten - or of the born, for that matter. He'd never thought of it in depth until that night, seeing Lurk's body break and bloom into something of myth, something he'd not quite seen since he was a boy in Serkonos. [Werewolf!Daud AU.]


_This is an older piece of mine I'm crossposting from AO3 - like mad old honestly? I still like it even if I'm not super crazy about Daud anymore. Still love Billie tho. Still love me some Dishonored werewolf / monster AUs, too._

* * *

 **T** he bite manifested its way differently in each of his followers, much like the black-eyed one's mark. Some could contort their feeble human forms into something a little more canine, a little stronger, and a hell of a lot hungrier; while others only managed to put on muscle or push the limits of their senses. He watched, assessed, judged, and chose only select few to share in this additional strength, knowing that they had a greater chance of embracing the gift - of _surviving_ , instead of falling to pieces into a pool of blood and burning flesh.

Lurk is the first he bites, not a fortnight after becoming his second in command. She knows what his intentions are when he draws her away from the others that night, and welcomes the promotion with open arms and a fire in her eyes that makes Daud feel as though _he_ is the inexperienced child being offered a taste of wine for the first time, and an unfamiliar anxiety worms its way into his guts. He shakes the _what ifs_ and doubt away in favor of observation.

Lurk is there with an open wound that smokes, radiating heat that can be felt from such a short distance. She grits her teeth and bears it, eyes focused on the dribble of blood that falls from his lips and onto his red coat, determined to conquer the trial that's stewing within her bones. His lips tighten, and he wonders if he's wasted his time in biting her when a minute passes. But in a startling turn not a moment before he is ready to call it quits, she succumbs to the rush and the pain - and though her discipline and endurance are beyond that of any man's, she screams.

"Every man is a beast at heart," Daud responds in kind to her gasps of agony as the scent of blood permeates the air. "The key is not to struggle with it. Own your mind and body, don't deny your nature -"

 _If looks could kill_ , the corners of his mouth twitch slightly as she looks up at him, eyes burning brighter. The snapping of bones would make him flinch had he not grown deaf to such sounds years ago.

"- But don't give in to it."

Her final scream is drawn out until it breaks and becomes the most beautiful howl Daud has ever heard. Grey eyes meet red, and he allows himself a grin as he marvels at her resolve, a show of teeth that are far too sharp for a mere man to possess. Lurk rights herself on all fours, panting, but not quite spent. He straightens himself and watches as she follows suit, and he feels the blood within his veins begin to quicken.

Daud never quite understood what determined the form of the bitten - or of the _born_ , for that matter. He'd never thought of it in depth until that night, seeing Lurk's body break and bloom into something of myth, something he'd not quite seen since he was a boy in Serkonos.

His mother was beautiful. Deadly and cunning, but beautiful, too. As a child, he watched her run along the rocky shores, all dark fur and silver fangs that glimmered under the light of the moon and stars. They called her a witch, if only they knew the truth of her nature.

"It's a reflection of the inner self," She'd once said in response to his query, the trace of a smile on her dark lips as he glared at his reflection on the water's surface. "The face we hide when we must appear tame."

For many years after, he took this to mean that his monstrous form - black and grey with claws and fangs of twisted steel, a hulking figure with an awkward predatory gait - signified his great inner strength, meant he was meant to strike fear into the hearts of men with his grotesque snarl. But Lurk...Lurk was otherworldly.

They raced across the rooftops, combining their inhuman agility with the blessings of the Outsider and catching kingsparrows midair with their teeth. Daud is hungry, but it's a void that seems endless, incapable of satisfaction. He stops and watches Lurk as she moves like liquid, transversing and leaping from roof to roof, already a master of her altered anatomy. There is pride, yes, but envy and longing within his chest as she tilts her head to the sky and howls a song to rival that of the whales. It makes his fur stand on end and his muscles ache.

She doesn't seem to notice that he's no longer leading the charge, too intent on playing with her newfound power, too fascinated by the heights she could reach now that a bit of blood and venom has torn her very being to shreds and put it back together, stronger and more deadly than she could ever hope to be as a woman. He can hear the others following from a safe distance, curious, _jealous_ , but soon - if Lurk is an example to lead by (and she is, he's never been more confident in a decision in his entire life) - soon they, too, can feel the hunger and the sheer exhilaration.

Provided they prove their worth, first.

Daud is dragged from his thoughts when Billie blinks in front of him, nipping at his jaw as if to goad him on. She's gone in a burst of smoke and fur before he can comprehend her invitation, however, safely on the roof adjacent to his. He tilts his head when she snarls, curious, but is enticed when he notices the faintest trace of a grin on her maw. Reflected in twilight, she is a creature of danger and intrigue, and he'll follow her to a place the others can't reach. He'll show her everything the bite can offer, and then some, and in the morning they'll return to the rickety old building the whalers call home to put the beast to rest.

Billie howls again, more insistent, and Daud leaps after her.

It's the first time he feels he's brought something beautiful to the world.


End file.
